Hot Blood
by RLangel
Summary: Rebecca Quilette doesn't know what to think when her Momma up and moves them to La Push Reservation at the beginning of her 15th summer. Short I know, I'll get better at it, I Rated T because I'll need it that way later on. R
1. Prologue

I sat on the stairs listening to my mother talk on the phone to a mysterious 2nd party from a place called the 'La Push Reservation'.

So far all I know is that this 'reservation' is my momma's hometown and she wants to go back.

"Billy, I need this, please." Julia, my momma, begged this Billy man from this reservation.

"Yes I know who her father is!" Momma scream whispered into the phone. My ears perked up at the mention of my father. He was never mentioned, it was one of my momma's unspoken rules.

"She's already 15! I don't think I could handle her if-" Momma stopped abruptly, how did he do that? If we do move, I need to ask.

"Ok, look, I say that we live in the old Quilette house in the woods, it's far enough away to make you council happy, and close enough that if she does...I know things are different." Momma said, her voice was strained, I shouldn't be listening this was personal. I started to get up.

Hold on, was that a laugh, no, it was a flirty laugh. What was she doing? She's too old to laugh like that. She has grey hair for God's sake!

"Is Mr. Warren still attempting to teach math. Oh, poor Jake!" Another pause, except this one resulted in a near growl.

"She is NOT going to school in forks Billy Black!" Momma took one deep breath while Billy explained, or at least that what I thought he was doing, why I needed to go to school in Forks.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up grabbing to soccer ball and cleats that were next to me on the stair. I ran down the rest of the stairs to at a time. "Momma, I'm going to go play some soccer with Kellie and Hillary." I said looking in the kitchen to see her sitting at the table. Her nearly black eyes looked worn and beaten.

"Alright Becca, be home for dinner though." Momma said tiredly.

I smiled and nodded my head leaning down to swiftly kiss her on her worn leather cheek then walked out the door.

Millions of questions swarmed through my head as I walked to the park, but two stood out the most. Why would this Billy man need to remind my momma about who my father was and how did he know when I didn't even know?

When I got home it was very surreal. She, momma, was still sitting at the table. She wasn't on the phone but she was still there, sitting in the chair, waiting on me to get home.

"Honey, could you come here for a second."

She sounded worried, but I knew what was coming.

She talked and I listened. She talked about how she needed to move back to La Push because she missed it dearly. It was time for a change, life was becoming boring. Blah.

She said that if I didn't want to move I didn't have to but I wanted to.

I'm such a selfish brat.


	2. Chapter 1

The rain was hitting my window softly as I tried to sleep. This summer was going to be the most confusing ever, even more so then the summer that Bobby Jenkins had a crush on me and I liked him, but there was a dilemma. He had cooties.

I smiled at the memory. I had Hillary give me a cootie shot, but, of course, momma was furious when I came home with a bloody finger. I didn't care though; I just smiled as she lectured me. I remember her asking me

'Rebecca Anne Quilette, What is so funny?' and my reply,

'Nothing momma, I'm just happy.'

'Why are you so happy then?' she had asked me curtly.

'I can like Bobby now.' That had mad her laugh. I wish I could still do that, make her laugh. She's been so worried about me, constantly asking me how I'm feeling and if I'm really ok with us moving.

I was, of course. I knew momma needed to do this, and I had heard her talking on the phone with Billy about how his son Jacob has grown so tall and handsome.

She just doesn't know that me reasons for not even being the slightest bit angry were very selfish.

I knew that people in this place, the reservation, knew about my father. I wanted more than anything to know what they know. Heck, I wanted more that anything to know his name!

Momma didn't realize these wants, and I wasn't about to bring them up like I did when I was little. Father was a touchy subject with her.

I know that I look like him. Not because of pictures, but because I don't really look like my momma. In fact, now that I think about it, I might as well be her complete opposite.

My skin was about to shades lighter than her tan Indian skin. My hair wasn't her originally black curls but my very own honey blond relaxed.

Momma looked at me from the corner of her black eyes and rubbed my arm. She must think I'm asleep.

"I wish I could explain this all to you honey, but there are some things you need to figure out on your own." Like whom my father might happen to be.

She sighed and turned back to the road.

It's not like I don't have secrets to mother. I had once told her when I was younger after another denial when I asked who father was. She just gave me an irritated look and walked away.

If only she knew, if she could only see what she didn't know.

The other reason I wanted to know things about my daddy was my 'gift'.

I wasn't 'normal'. I could...well, I can, move things while I'm not touching them. I know Momma can't. She's too normal.

I sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position, pulling my knees up onto the seat with me.

I was going to a new school in a very small town called Forks. I wasn't aloud to go to the school in La Push, or as my momma puts it, La Push's school is too big. She'd rather that I go to a school where I can get more one on one attention, Even though I made straight A's last year in AP classes.

I don't know how long I laid there but eventually I fell into a dreamless sleep.

"Becca, wake up!" Momma said shaking me slightly. I sat up slowly, blinking.

"Becca we're here!" Momma said happily, it was day light outside and I could see the house.

It was old. I only knew that because momma said so. She has also told her not to expect much. You could tell that the house had been painted recently. I was white and clean, the window shutters weren't falling off, the door worked.

Opened the car door and stepped out. I mimicked her motions.

"I guess we need to get unpacked then." I said opening the back door on my side of the car and grabbing two large duffel bags of clothes. I walked swiftly to the front porch to place the bags there.

Ignoring momma's slow walk to the front door I turned and walked back to the car. This time I opened the trunk to grab a large box labeled shoes.

Momma had finally managed to unlock the door so I walked right in. I stopped dead. On the fire mantel was a picture of a man and my mother. This man had the same honey blond hair and sea blue eyes. He was tall and broad, making my petite mother look like a doll. I quickly turned to look out the door at my mother, who was trying to pull out a lamp from the back seat.

Swiftly I put the box on a blue love seat sitting near the fire place and walked over to pick up the picture. I stuffed it in my jacket pocket; all momma would do if she saw it was throw it away.

After hours of unpacking I was finally laying in my bed. I have to say that I was shocked by how clean the house was. It was spotless; there were even some dishes in the kitchen cabinet.

My room had a twin bed and a new-ish computer on an old oak desk. The walls were painted a lighter green. I loved it. My dresser was definitely old. I'm guessing that it had been hers.

So many thoughts swarmed in my head as I switched off my bedside light.

I had known that I looked like my father. It was shocking how much though. I wasn't quite as tall, nor nearly as muscular, for I was lean muscular. His expression in the picture was like the one I make when I'm pouting.

After a long while of comparing and contrasting my fathers looks to my own I went to sleep to the sound of howling wolves.

I woke up the next morning to a cloudless sky and the smell of apple pie. Glancing over to my alarm clock I saw that it read 6 p.m. I really need to set that...

Throwing the covers off my legs I hopped out of my bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and followed my nose.

Walking out of my room and down the plain hallway into the kitchen I found momma, the flighty thing that she is, cooking. There was already a chocolate cake and about 2 dozen raspberry muffins.

"Momma, what time is it?" I asked over the horrible 60's music coming from a black radio on the white washed counter.

"Around 10," came her short reply. I walked over to pick up a raspberry muffin. That brought forth some attention.

"Honey, don't eat too many of those now." Momma said looking at me for the first time since I had come into the kitchen.

"Why?" I asked as I stuffed the muffing in my mouth and opened the fridge to find nothing to drink.

"I made them and the cake" I had been eyeing it, "For Billy."

My mouth, full of muffin, hung open. "Billy?" I repeated.

"Yes, Billy Black. What are you planning on doing today? Unpacking?" she asked. No. I had of all things, developed her flightiness. I liked to say that my personality was random.

"Who's Billy Black?" I asked as I looked in all the cabinets for a glass. I wasn't about to let her change the subject.

"An old friend of mine, he has a son about your age, Jacob." Ok, maybe I was.

"I'm planning on going to the beach, you know; catch up on some long lost soccer practice." Ok, so maybe I had practiced for two hours three days before today while avoiding packing.

"Well, actually," Momma began. Oh no, was all I could think at that moment. "I was thinking that maybe you would run over to Billy's house and take him the cake and muffins.

I put my new found glass on the counter and looked at her. "I don't even know where he lives," came my pathetic excuse.

"It's just down our road to the left. You couldn't possibly miss it." She replied, she knew me and my evasiveness.

"Fine," I said drinking a glassful of tap water and putting the glassing the sink. "I'll leave in 10 minutes." I said turning around and walking back to my room.

"Jacob might probably be there," I heard her say in the kitchen.

I smiled, I would never do that in her presence, but I couldn't help it. None of the guys were really that good looking from my old town. Maybe he was hot, maybe he was athletic. I love athletic boys, tall, muscular, smart, athletic boys.

Sighing at my out shallowness I pulled on my dark blue two piece bathing suit, should I put on a shirt over it? Yes, I though firmly. I can't just show up at some old mans house in a bathing suit, but maybe...maybe I could wear a white shirt so you could see my bathing suit. Maybe Jacob would answer the door.

I rolled my eyes while pulling on a white t-shirt that went to my thighs. Filling my old faded green backpack with a soccer ball and a beach towel I couldn't help but wonder what Jacob looked like, and maybe what his friends looks like also.

While I searched for my flip flops I kept wondering. Did this Billy Black know my father? Did he like him? Was my father the reason momma left La Push? Was I the reason momma left La Push?

I had to stop so many questions; I would give myself a head ache. Finally finding my flip flops in the box of shoes I had put on the love seat yesterday I pulled my backpack on and walked back into the kitchen.

Momma was there, but this time cleaning. She wasn't nearly my organized equal, but she did hate a mess.

"Ok, I'm leaving." I said grabbing a brown paper bag from the counter that had the cake and muffins in it.

"Bye honey, have a nice time." Momma said looking up from her stack of polished spoons.

Why couldn't she just start by putting the dishes in the cabinets? I wondered as I kissed the top of her head and walked out the door.

I walked up to the old door and knocked. While I waited I looked around. There was a car; I'm not sure what kind, in the driveway. Around the corner, to my joy, you could see a motorcycle. By the time I noticed the motorcycle someone had opened the door.

It was a very tall Indian god that happened to be shirtless. I of course had to say the first thing that came to my mind.

"Wow." I said, looking from his shocked expression back to the motorcycle. "I love the bike." I added, maybe he would think that's what I was talking about.

"Thanks." He said giving me a questioning look.

"Oh, um, does Billy Black live here?"

"Yes." He said still looking at me with that annoyingly perfect question.

"Well, um, my momma, Julia Quilette, sent me over with muffins and a chocolate cake." I smiled holding up the bag. "And a message for Billy." What was he, illiterate?

"Ok, come in while I go get him." He said walking backward, I followed, of course, not taking notice to his stopping and running right into his back. I did however notice how muscular his back was.

"Sorry." I mumbled, taking a few steps back.

"Wait here." He said turning and walking down a hallway. I stared after him for a moment, definitely illiterate.

I was then that I noticed that here were a few other nice looking boys sitting in his living room. Their eyes were expectant, of what though?

"Hi." One of them said standing up and offering his hand. He was tall and lean, but not nearly as tall nor as muscular as the other boy. "I'm Embry." He added.

I took the hand with grateful smile; maybe I could have an actual conversation with one of them. "Hey, I'm Rebecca."

Embry laughed. "You're not from around here are you?"

"Well, no, I'm from Tennessee." I said, I guessed it was my accent.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. This is Quill," he said pointing to a shorter boy with muscles on top of muscles.

"And that's Ben." An older looking boy with a wild look in his eye stood up and shook my hand.

Then, something I didn't expect happened. A man walked in, you could tell he was the one in charge. He looked at me for a second with a shocked expression. All the other boys looked at him, then me, then back at him and sat down.

It was at this time that the other boy, the illiterate one who had answered the door, whom I assumed was Jacob walked back in the room. He was smiling this time. He looked nice. "What did you say your name was?" He asked, ok, maybe not so illiterate.

"Rebecca Quilette." I answered.

He was about to say something else but then he stopped. He looked at the man then back at me in the same manner that the other boys had done and said in a shocked voice. "Is that possible?"

"Yes," I said, "It is very possible that my name is Rebecca." This wasn't funny. I was getting irritated. What power did this man hold over these boys that I couldn't see?

The boys looked like they were about to roll with laughter when an old rolled in on a wheel chair.

"Hello Becca, I've heard so much about you from your mother." He said rolling over to me and shaking my hand, he must have noticed something in my expression cause he added, "I hope these boys haven't scared you."

"No sir," said with a smile. They hadn't scared me. They had just made me a little curious, which, in their case, is far worse than fear.

"Wait a second, you knew momma back then?" I asked, shock shining in my voice. "Did you know my daddy to?" Please Lord, please let him.

"Yes, you look a lot like him. He was a very...confident man." I could tell that he had to search for a nice word. "In fact, I told your mother that if she ever had a child with her flightiness and his confidence she would be doomed.

I laughed at this. "Well, I'm not as bad an either of them, but I do have my moments, but, now to the real reason I came. Momma sent me some muffins and a chocolate cake here with a message that said exactly." I paused. "Please don't shoot the messenger, but it said that 'The old man most likely never learned how to cook anything but that spaghetti of his so it's about time he had his old favorites.' So here." I said holding out the bag for him.

"Jacob could you and the boys take that into the kitchen?" he asked, at this the boys, moving faster than a pack of wolves, ran into the kitchen as Jacob grabbed the bag out of my hands and followed. I changed my mind, he wasn't illiterate he was rude.

"Please excuse them," Billy said, looking into the kitchen walkway. "But, Miss Rebecca, would you mind telling your mother that this old man was planning on making his spaghetti tonight, and in return for this wonderful food, she, and you of course, are invited to come eat with me and Jacob.

"That would be nice, but you know momma, she'll probably be sculpting something by the time I get back from the beach." He laughed at this.

"Well, I have to go Mr. Black." I said with a smile looking toward the door.

"Oh, right." He said rolling out of my way.


End file.
